inseguirsi
by beku
Summary: Joshua finds a mysterious boy who wants to be his Conductor.


**This is going to be horribly casual and I hope the lot of you don't expect me to put my heart into this—even though Joshua and Neku in any sort of sense is my one true pairing ever. Also, I realize how short the chapter is. It's been taken into high regard, but I've finally decided that shorter chapters will indirectly mean shorter update periods.  
><strong>

**Please remember that while this story is AU the world elements are still the same—Joshua is still the Composer, the general rules of the Game still stands. However, it should be noted that Neku and Joshua have never met, and this may be assumed with Shiki, Beat and Rhyme. I promise you the beginning will start off pretty slowly, but I also promise I will try and pick up the pace as much as possible afterwards. For now, it would be best to forget nearly everything you know about TWEWY, because I'll explain what you need to know in this chapter.**

**With that stated, I present to you inseguirsi.**

As is normal circumstances, the Composer of a given area should have a Game, one that tests man's worth, roughly every week. Only so many survive the rigorous seven days, and only so many of that few are chosen to be… _resurrected_, of sorts. Also certain is this: there are generally three tiers associated with the events in the Game—the Players, or humans who have died, and are garnering their chances for a Resurrection; the Reapers, Players who have further averted Erasure by joining those who run the Game, and may range from Harriers to the Composer; and lastly, the Angel Society, those who stand guard over each district and keep a careful eye on each Game and its Composer's doings.

Now, it should be reasoned that each person starts off as a Player. They may progress to a Reaper, starting off as an on-field worker, a Harrier. These are usually tasked with the dirtier works of enforcing the present day's mission, or unleashing warped Imagination, Noise, to weed out the weaker delinquents. From there, they grow to be an Officer, which would include the Game Master, Conductor, and eventually, if they are successful enough to defeat their predecessor, the Composer.

There are those individuals who may seem to overcome these challenges fairly easy, and these are the ones welcomed with open arms to the Reapers. They will surpass all expectations, and may choose to climb up higher in this ladder. Those are the ones chosen to become an Angel, an overpowering deity of unspeakable proportions.

Is this system rigid?

If the world were a rigid system, emotion would not exist. The Game is lenient, and as such, exceptions exist. That is where this story begins.

* * *

><p><em>'I know you're out there.'<em>

It was a single thought that called the Composer through the crowds. Its signal was distressed, like water pushed through a tiny tap, and the pressure so piercing it could cut. He found himself weaving in and out of the people, and while he knew this was completely unnecessary, he found himself feeling like this was the only way he could seem to be a part of this city again. He would blend in, and he would follow the trends, and he would laugh and talk and eat and live like any other person would. But he couldn't simply because he _was_.

In a simple second, Joshua stood in the less populated area of Shibuya. He enjoyed places like this—quiet, simple, untainted. No one would judge him or treat him any differently.

What hurt the most, he figured, was that he knew no matter how much he yearned for that life, he would never have it. He was like this peculiar voice that lead him to Udagawa. They were commonplace, but they stood out like the sore thumbs they were. He told himself it's because he's special, he doesn't need to blend in because he's got a job like no other. Nothing worked to quell his anxiety, and he hoped this would be the same with the voice.

A thin build was standing in front of the CAT mural. Its shoulders heaved, as if something were holding them down as he breathed. Joshua could see a chest rising and falling and he instantly worried for the boy's health. He seemed to be in good hands—perfectly displayed sensations of despair and anguish. This boy was on a leash.

"Make me your Conductor," the boy smoothly said. His voice cut the silence, and the Composer gasped.

His stance was unwavering. The former brought up a gun and pressed it against his temple. There was a look in his eyes that screamed _'stop me I don't know what I'm doing'_ and then… Joshua found home in those eyes. This boy was misunderstood, like him. All he wanted was a friend.

Joshua materialized (not once had he thought of anyone catching him in this act) and slowly placed a hand on the painting. As he traced a thin finger along the different strokes, he thought over the possible things to say to this boy. He decided on, "You do realize you must die, right?"

"Shoot me."

"What's driving you like this?"

"Myself."

Maybe… maybe they _weren't_ so alike after all. Joshua wouldn't throw his life away like that. He held himself in too high of esteem. He would just be wasting a life that could have changed the world. The Composer told the boy his standpoint in killing oneself, but he only spat in response.

"There's no one who needs me out here, I don't think I've ever had anyone. If I'm going to be doing this dump any good, I need to be dead." Within a matter of seconds, the boy had shot the sky. There was a bit of a mischievous tint in his eye. He was having fun like this, and Joshua wanted him to keep that glint forever. It looked good on him. But it's gone as quickly as it came. "If you won't kill me, I'll do it myself. I know I'll be a powerful Conductor, and I know you know this.

At this point, Joshua had only grown more cautious about this boy. He took a careful step back. "Tell me, boy. Who are you?"

He smiled, and graced the Composer with a small bow. "Neku Sakuraba. I'm ready to sell my life to you."

"And tell me, Neku Sakuraba, how is it that you can see me?" It was here that the boy seemed to stumble. His head lingered down a moment longer than necessary. His mouth had even opened to answer, but he retracted any thought of it.

Joshua quickly picked up on this. "Touchy subject, hm?" He smirked, bringing the boy up by running a finger along his jaw. Neku shivered and bit his lip. "Fine. I won't push you to tell me."

The disappointment was obvious.

Neku took the hand in his own. His face was stern, and his upper lip stiff. He was learning how to harden himself already. Joshua made the mistake of looking into his 'Conductor's eyes- cold, unforgiving. But they were lonely, and he was sad. The Composer could see that. He decided to keep his earlier topic alive.

"If you become my Conductor, you lose everything you have. You will watch your friends and family die in front of you. You will forfeit any freedom you may possess over to me. You won't be human anymore, dear. People will call you a _monster._ People will hate you."

But this only caused Neku to throw the hand away. He looked at it as if Joshua had been infected with an incurable disease. And he abandoned any hope the Composer could have had for him. "People won't be able to hurt me."

If Neku was afraid of hurting, then Joshua was afraid of making people happy. They learn to expect it, and only get disappointed when he can't deliver. He's only one boy, despite being as old as the district itself. He may have the power of the Angels, but he only has the mentality of a young child.

There was something that tugged at Joshua. He rocked Neku back on his heels and supported him with a hand on his back. He could see the glint in the boy's eyes again- at this point, they only scared him. The Composer laid his forehead on the other's, placing a hand on his chest, taking his breaths in sync with him. It's not long before the younger boy is enveloped in a blinding white light, and if Joshua weren't Composer, he'd realize how hot this light really was.

His hand crumpled fabric as Neku began screaming. The boy's nails had dug into Joshua's shoulders, but this only drove Joshua forward. "You need to finish this, Neku..."

And in the next instant, it was like Joshua had lost the boy altogether.

In his hands now was a limp and lifeless body. Neku was _dead_.


End file.
